Pine Vally2025
by suerum
Summary: This is a one shot parody of what both Erica and Ryan might be like several years in the future.  I wrote it with my tongue firmly ensconced in my cheek.


_A/N: I have no rights to the show All My Children or it's characters. This piece was written quite a while ago in response to a prompt to write some in the moment satire about what was occurring in Pine Valley at that particular time. So, I decided to write a piece set about fifteen years in the future and focused mainly on Erica and Ryan. This piece references the period on the show when they were briefly a romantic couple and there are also several other aspects of the show from that time which have since changed such as who the father of Amanda's baby actually was -Jake or David and that Greenlee and Aidan were an off-again/on-again couple. _

Pine Valley-2025

Opal was standing by the French windows of Erica's suite in the newly constructed Pine Valley Assisted Living Complex as she spoke in the general direction of her oldest and dearest friend. "Erica, I am just not sure, well, gal pal, I just don't quite know how to say this..."

Opal stuttered to a stop, words failing her because she knew no matter how she phrased what she needed to tell her oldest and dearest friend it would still backfire and La Kane would absolutely take her well intentioned concerns amiss. After all, Erica's single defining characteristic had always been her overweening femininity.

Standing across the room from Opal, Erica theatrically tossed back her thinning mane of hair. Once her crowning glory, her hair was now sadly reduced to a bizarre combination of dry stringy strands composed of artificial, light absorbing, pitch black locks which were interspersed with liberal streaks of white. The overall effect of so many decades of over-treated and over-stressed tresses was somewhat reminiscent of Cruella Deville. Naturally, even though they were indoors and there wasn't the slightest hint of a breeze to be found, Erica's hair was windblown. Yet, the unforeseen result of the artificial air flow was to create an unflattering tangled crow's nest of black and white fibers which did nothing to enhance the appearance of the aged star. Erica blew her breath impatiently upward to temporarily move limp strands of the overly long, parti-colored hair out of her eyes so that she could direct an irritable glance at her friend.

"What did you say Opal?" Erica asked, her tone a petulant whine. When there was no immediate response she prompted her further, "Well, what is it you want to say? Spit it out, c'mon speak up!"

Peering anxiously around the room through cataract dulled eyes, Opal tried to pinpoint Erica's location from the familiar sound of her strident voice. She finally erroneously settled on the brightly colored window curtains, swaying slightly in the nonexistent wind, as an indicator of her friend's position.

"I really can't say," Opal started speaking hesitantly and then, unable to control herself a moment longer, a sudden fervent torrent of words spilled from her lips. "I can't see that well with these old eyes of mine but I know you all too well, girlfriend. I'm sure that you have on some kinda summery looking, cut down to there sundress. Now, much as I don't want to say anything that might hurt your feelings or get between us or cause you to yell at me….Well, Erica, the truth is that those puppies of yours are down to your navel and you just can't get away with décolletage like that anymore. Never mind how silly it all looks with that walker and just don't get me started on those heels of yours. Also, it's February and you're liable to catch your death and after that last bout of pneumonia that very nearly did you in..."

Finally, Opal trailed off and discontinued her rant about Erica's fashion sense or lack thereof. Truthfully, she had forgotten the point of her impromptu speech, distracted as she was by the hypnotic belling of the long, boldly colored drapes. Opal stared hard at the curtains, the orange and green swirling pattern vaguely imprinting itself upon her brain. Erica and her inappropriate clothing choices were entirely dismissed while Opal dreamily contemplated what a truly stunning caftan the curtain fabric would make.

Erica hadn't heard a single word of Opal's diatribe about her dress and shoes. She was also blissfully oblivious to her friend's current fascination with the potential of the room's drapery to become haute couture ala 'Gone with the Wind'. Bored with the lack of conversational input Erica picked up her walker preparatory to leaving, she had better things to do then play charades with Opal Courtlandt. After all, she wasn't getting any younger and Erica Kane wasn't going to sit around this mausoleum playing canasta and taking naps, not while there was still so much life in her. Shuffling forward a few steps she hefted the walker up to avoid an imaginary rise in the room's carpeting. Yet, when Erica placed it back on the floor with a fair amount of force one of the tennis balls on the front legs inadvertently landed on Opal's sandal shod foot, causing her to howl with pain. Losing her never too steady balance, the taller woman fell forward into the curtains she had so recently been admiring. Opal clutched at them in a frantic last ditch effort to remain upright but only succeeded in yanking them down with her as she clumsily toppled to the ground.

Having finally reached her destination of the suite's front door, Erica paused, and turning around, spoke to the room at large with a haughty disdain carefully cultivated over the years. "Well, Opal if you're going to be in such a snit and not be civil enough to answer my question then I've got better things to do. I can't just hang around here all day while you give me the silent treatment." Moving steadily away from the recumbent form on the floor, Erica sniffed her disapproval of Opal's lack of manners. "Anyway, Ryan is waiting for me to meet him at the Pine Valley Yacht Club. He's planned for a romantic evening of dining, dancing, and romancing under the stars." Erica wrinkled up her nose and smiled girlishly at the thought of the delectable treat in store for her entirely unaware of the exposure of her lipstick smeared dentures. "He's so cute the way he plays hard to get these days...that silly restraining order what a tease! Ha! As though anyone wouldn't give their first born grandchild to have one hour of time spent with the divinity that is La Kane!"

Slowly and painfully but with an accompanying fierce determination, Erica continued shuffling through the door of the suite. She appeared to be completely unaware of the moans of anguish emanating from her best friend as she lay helplessly prostrate on the floor behind Erica. Opal was completely entangled with the beguiling drapery which had proven to be her literal downfall.

After an extended and heated argument with the van driver for the assisted living complex about whether or not the Pine Valley Yacht Club was a sanctioned destination, Erica inevitably got her way and arrived at the club only slightly later than expected. 'Still,' she thought to herself with a little simper, 'It does a man good to wait so that they don't take one for granted.' After precariously wended her way through the outer precincts of the club, Erica imperiously demanded entrance to the outdoor eating area situated on the verandah and overlooking the magical Pine Valley shore line. With an inward sigh of irritation at her limited mobility, Erica wisely requested some aid to help her traverse the treacherously slippery steps down to the outdoor dining space. The management, long used to the peccadilloes of their most famous patroness, assigned two bored looking but appropriately husky young men to haul her unceremoniously down the short flight of stairs.

Before she either could tip them or kiss them or maybe both, she hadn't quite decided which to do, Erica's unwilling escorts, possessing prior experience of her unwelcome advances as a means of rewarding their reluctant service, vanished with speedy alacrity back into the safety of the yacht club. Nodding her head indulgently at yet another case of grown men becoming awestruck and shy in the presence of her legendary beauty, Erica slowly shuffled around the verandah diligently searching for her date.

Finally, Erica spotted Ryan sitting at a beach-side table. To her immediate displeasure, she noted that he was apparently dining with three young women rather than awaiting her arrival with breathless and solitary anticipation as expected. The trio of hussies clustered around him was a walking cliché. One was a brunette, one a blonde and the third a redhead and all three were excessively buxom. As Ryan surreptitiously leaned over to get a better look at the cleavage of the blonde sitting to his left, his ill fitting toupee suddenly shifted and inadvertently revealed an unexpected view of his bald shining scalp. Obviously repelled by the sight, Ryan's three dining companions exchanged glances of ill-concealed disgust with one another.

As Opal had previously mentioned, it was indeed February and there were small intermittent piles of snow scattered around the wooden floor of the verandah. Yet, none of the quartet clustered together in such close intimacy at the small table were dressed appropriately to be out in such inclement weather. Ryan was wearing shorts and a t-shirt and the three girls were dressed in colorful cocktail gowns with simultaneously plunging backs and necklines. Despite heat lamps placed at strategic locations throughout the al fresco dining area, each member of the group was consistently shivering. An additional indicator of their foolhardy ignorance of the ambient temperature occurred as every time one of them opened their mouth to speak white clouds of smoke were emitted.

Despite the unexpected presence of the three unlooked for interlopers, Erica was still delighted to have finally spotted her quarry as she gaily caroled out a greeting. "Yoo, hoo, Ryan, here I am!" She waved her handkerchief above her head with one hand while clutching at the walker with the other to avoid falling.

Ryan was entirely unaware of Erica's arrival as he was sitting with his back to the exterior entrance and besides which had been entirely captivated by his bewitching dinner dates. Hastily, he spun around in his seat, panic stricken to hear the all too familiar aged and creaky voice loudly greeting him. With admirable speed, he made a lightning fast adjustment to the unpleasant parameters of his now untenable situation as he turned back to his three companions who were fraternal triplets. They were the daughters of Marissa and JR Chandler and each girl was named after their maternal aunt who had been their father's one true love.

Regretfully, Ryan said his adieus, "Sorry, Babes, gotta go!"

He smiled engagingly at them, his brilliant teeth sparkling unnaturally in the evening light and his tanned face a mass of premature wrinkles from too much sun exposure throughout the years. Acting with a swiftness which would have been the envy of Erica's earlier attendants, men only half his age, Ryan jumped up from his seat at the table. He was dressed in tennis whites which were two sizes too small for him so that his engorged beer belly overhung the waist band of the shorts causing the threatened popping of the top button to appear to be an imminent event. Awkwardly, he ran for the railing of the verandah and clumsily vaulted over it. A brief moment after Ryan disappeared from view a loud groan of pain was heard echoing from the beachside darkness.

That sound was quickly followed by Ryan's disembodied voice cheerfully wafting back to his erstwhile dinner dates, "Don't worry about me girls! I'm great, it's just a small leg cramp. I'll catch up with you all later back at your pad."

Having successfully made his escape from what he considered a fate far worse than death, Ryan limped painfully off into the night. With slow deliberation, Erica approached the table from which her supposed date had absconded so dramatically. Unfortunately, due to regular botox injections, her face was unnaturally smooth and unable to show any type of expression. So, in order to illustrate her extreme displeasure, Erica contented herself with glaring at the trio of young women who were responsible for usurping both her plans for an intimate tete a tete and the sudden disappearance of the man with whom she was intending to spend a romantic evening.

Erica spoke with scornful indignation. "Well, and what do you three vixens have to say for yourselves? It's quite obviously all your fault that my date for the evening went running off like that no doubt due to some unpardonable behavior on your part!

Babe One, a redhead and the eldest of the triplets by four minutes, was the first to respond to Erica's unfounded accusation. Wearing a bored looking expression on her face as she popped her chewed gum, she said quite truthfully, "It wasn't us that ran him off, Miss Kane."

Babe Two who, was blonde and the youngest of the three, added eagerly, "Golly, Miss Kane, we don't want Mr. Lavery, you can have him. He's just always hanging around pestering me and my sisters. Personally, I have a super sized crush on that Trevor Matthew David Martin-Hayward. He's ever so dreamy and broody. Why he told me recently that he just took down a jet liner full of nuns as a protest against organized religion. It was right afterwards when he was at that seedy, run down bar Confusion that I was lucky enough to run into him. He was on a bender trying to get drunk enough so that the nuns would stop haunting him in his nightmares. He was so dark and gloomy and tortured and that's why I just had to jump his bones!"

The final sister was the brunette Babe Three, who drawled indifferently while examining her meticulously manicured nails, "He's your uncle you nitwit, or at least he might be if anyone bothered to ever run a DNA test on him. As for you, Miss. Kane," she looked up at Erica with a spiteful sneer, "You're too old for Mr. Lavery besides which your dress is on inside out!"

Erica looked from one to the other of the triplets as they each spoke, a puzzled expression on her face. Well, in theory she was perplexed and her face would have demonstrated her lack of comprehension except for the combined preventive outcomes of her botox treatments allied with multiple sessions of plastic surgery carried out through the years. The first time Erica ever underwent a surgical procedure to combat the affects of aging was when she turned twenty-five. It was a birthday present she gave to herself to battle the demons the ceremony of turning a quarter of century old brought with it and that first voluntary decision to undergo the incision of a surgeon's scalpel would be followed by countless other such occasions.

Erica stood erect, or at least as erect as her dowager hump permitted, trying valiantly to make all four feet eight inches of herself look imposing. With a venomous hiss, she began her well honed attack. "Don't you know who I am, you harpies? You may not currently live in an aluminum house on blocks but you're trailer trash through and through! Sitting there and mumbling disrespectfully at me when I ask you a simple question."

While Erica berated them, a steady stream of spittle flew forth from her mouth. It landed indiscriminately on the three girls who grimaced with abhorrence. They scrubbed frantically at their faces with linen napkins leaving traces of makeup and lipstick imprinted on the fabric, rather like minimalist faces all lips, eyes and cheeks. It was a form of surrealistic art which Andy Warhol would have applauded not the least for it's innately temporary nature.

Babe One reacted to the insult by throwing her drink in Erica's face. "I'll have you know I live in a modular home, don't you dare go around calling me trailer trash!"

Babe Two stood up and defiantly tossed her long blonde hair back over her shoulder. "Yeah, and it's not my fault if you can't keep a man. We Carey-Chandlers have to beat 'em off with a stick!"

Babe Three showed solidarity with her siblings by standing up and slapping Erica as she stalked indignantly by her. "You are a has been and that was true about twenty years ago already!"

Erica stood there dazed while Babe Three's emblazoned handprint slowly fading from her face. She was musing over the evening's strange events, starting with Opal's oddly silent behavior and ending with the triplets stalking off in high dudgeon over her words which while they might have been somewhat harsh there was still no gainsaying their inherent veracity, when Erica experienced an epiphany. She looked sheepishly around at the few other diners bizarrely braving the chilly weather to eat outdoors hoping that they were too intent on trying to keep warm to have paid any attention to her recent contretemps. Unfortunately, Erica was Pine Valley's resident celebrity and it was simply too much for her to hope that her little scene with the triplets had gone unnoticed. Yet, her consciousness of mild public humiliation, an occurrence she was well acquainted with of old, paled in comparison to her sudden discovery. While the surrounding witnesses performed an instant transformation from being avid voyeurs to a completely enthralled fascination with their neglected meals and discussing the weather in loud stilted voices, Erica reached up to her left ear and pushed a tiny switch.

Erica giggled girlishly as she could once again hear the chatter of the other diners and even the subdued clinking of their silverware. "Ah! That's better! I always forget to turn that confounded thing on. Boy!" She gestured arrogantly at a passing waiter. "Clear the detritus from this table immediately and then pull out my chair for me." Once she was comfortably seated, Erica continued with her demands, "Bring me a bottle of 2005 Mount Epsilon sparkling cider and a menu. I have a date with Mr. Lavery and I intend to be well indulged while I wait for him. He'll be back sooner or later." She smiled wickedly to herself as she muttered under her breath, "After all, he lives here..."

Ryan remained on the dark beach for a further half hour constantly shivering and with his teeth chattering as he was deprived of the warmth of the heat lamps. Finally, it became clear to him that Erica was settled in for the long haul and he would have to look for accommodations for the night elsewhere. With a resigned shrug, he turned his back on the enticing lights of the Yacht Club and headed down the wet and chilly beach, limping unsteadily on his injured leg.

Greenlee came running out of the back bedroom of her penthouse apartment, wearing nothing but an ivory colored teddy as she went to answer the door. "Hold your horses, I'm coming already!" Flinging the door open she was disconcerted to find Ryan Lavery standing in the entryway. "Ryan! What are you doing here?" Greenlee artfully flipped her shiny, lustrous hair back and leaned out of her doorway to look expectantly down the hallway towards the elevator. Characteristically, Ryan took the opportunity to stare appreciatively down at her exposed neckline as he unconsciously licked his lips and thought rapturously about all the beautiful women in Pine Valley. He was a lucky man indeed!

"Damn! We ordered that tofu pizza with extra sprouts forty-five minutes ago!" Greenlee's annoyed outburst interrupted Ryan's reverie and deprived him of the delectable view as she straightened up and stepped back into the apartment.

Ryan grinned lasciviously at his ex-wife. The ambient light reflected from the surface of his pearlescent teeth and bounced back into Greenlee's eyes causing her to be temporarily blinded. "Well, tonight must be your lucky night, Greens, 'cause once you have a Ryan special you'll never touch tofu again."

Having delivered his come-on line with aplomb, Ryan leaned in confidently, fully intending to kiss Greenlee but she instinctively backed away from him even though she was unable to visually interpret his intention. Greenlee rapidly blinked her eyes and sighed in relief as her sight was slowly restored.

Greenlee asked with a slight edge to her voice since she was beginning to suffer from low blood sugar which was compounded by the absence of the reviving pizza. "Seriously, Ryan, what are you doing here?" She folded her arms under her breasts and stood in the middle of her living room frowning at him. Ryan interpreted her question as an invitation to enter the penthouse and so he did all the while keeping a close and appreciative eye on her heaving bosom.

With a sudden shift of focus from Greenlee's nether regions to a belated recollection that his hostess had inquired as to the reason for his unanticipated presence in her home, Ryan reluctantly raised his eyes from Greenlee's chest to the head surmounting it. He looked her in the face with a startling sense of fresh discovery as he suddenly realized that she was more than just a smoking hot body, she was drop dead gorgeous as well.

"Oh, yeah, it's Erica." He replied offhandedly, "She's stalking me again. She's staked out at the yacht club and I can't go back there tonight…" Ryan let the sentence trail off and made sad puppy dog eyes at Greenlee in an artful attempt to underscore his dolorous dilemma.

Greenlee's irritated demeanor dramatically altered as she now looked at Ryan with a much more sympathetic expression. "Erica!" she spat out the name of her hated nemesis, "That witch! I thought you had a restraining order against her."

Encouraged by Greenlee's wrathful response to his announcement, Ryan stepped back and, reaching behind himself without looking, closed and locked the apartment door. Ryan's first goal of assuring privacy accomplished, he then moved further into the loft and nodded in casual agreement with Greenlee's observation. "Yeah, I do. The problem is that every time I take her to court to try and get her convicted for not honoring it, there's a problem. As you know we only have one judge in Pine Valley and that's Marissa Carey-Heyward-Chandler. Whenever she sees us-Erica and me-come into the courtroom she starts laughing and won't stop except to say 'petition denied!'" He stared at Greenlee in indignation a wounded and aggrieved look on his face at having to suffer such scurrilous treatment.

Greenlee gazed back at him, her expression scandalized as she eagerly empathized with his outrage. "Why that simply isn't right, Ryan!" She responded with fierce resentment. "Judge Carey-Heyward-Chandler shouldn't be laughing. She should be enforcing the law. Everyone knows that Erica Kane is a menace to society and they should lock her up and throw away the key. Why just last month, during the New Year's Eve party at the Pine Valley Inn, she hit me over the head with her cane and then dumped the entire contents of the fruit punch bowl all over me. And for what reason, I ask you? All I said was that she was getting a little long in the tooth to be wearing a strapless silver lamè evening dress with a thigh slit and matching shoes with six inch heels. Feel this," Greenlee tilted her head down, speechlessly inviting Ryan to feel the scar on her scalp which had been incurred as a result of her fracas with Erica.

He responded to Greenlee's command with enthusiasm. Taking advantage of the proffered opportunity, Ryan began to run his hand first over her elegantly shaped head as he lightly stroked her thick luxuriant locks and then moved down lower where he began to gently caress her neck.

"Quit that!" Greenlee snarled in exasperation as she smacked his roaming hand away.

Ryan grinned to himself as he thought how much he liked the feisty ones. Regretfully, removing his hands for the moment, he continued regaling Greenlee with his legal woes. "Well, I thought it was time to try the personal touch so I asked to see Judge Carey-Heyward-Chandler privately in chambers. I turned on the full Lavery charm." He smiled reminiscently but this time Greenlee was fully prepared for the potential danger. She simply closed her eyes allowing the resultant sparkles to just bounce harmlessly off the walls of the living room as they briefly flared and then died out. "I even asked her to dinner, rather than just suggesting we get it on there and then in chambers. After all, I know she's a judge and I wanted to show the appropriate respect for her position." Ryan's face was earnest as he described how fair and reasonable he had been in his effort to protect Marissa's legal dignity.

Greenlee fighting to keep a straight face at Ryan's description of his seduction technique, inquired with genuine curiosity. "What did she say?"

Ryan answered her, his tone full of bewildered affront at the injury done to his pride. "Nothing, she didn't say a single word. She was drinking a glass of water and she started laughing again and then she was choking. After she got over the coughing fit she kept laughing so hard she got the hiccups. Finally, her law clerk had to come in with a brown paper bag to get her breathing back to normal. I just left. Actually, I was pretty relieved that she hadn't agreed." Ryan confided to Greenlee who was biting down on her bottom lip in a hard-won effort to prevent herself from bursting out laughing just like the judge had done. "I think she must have a screw loose, being married to a Chandler will do that to you. Though those three girls of hers-what peaches!" He stared pensively off into space for a minute contemplating his future prospects with the Carey-Chandler triplets before finishing his story. "Anyway, the upshot of it all is that means Erica can pretty much come and go in my life as she pleases. There's really nothing I can do about it." Ryan suddenly changed tactics as he switched abruptly from complaining litigant to suave lover, "So, what do you say, Greens, can I stay? It'll be just like old times…"

At that fraught moment, Aidan popped out of the loft bedroom, wearing nothing but a pair of blue satin boxers. "What'll be like old times, Mate?" He asked genially.

Aidan appeared entirely unfazed to discover one of Greenlee's old flames in her living room so late at night. He wrapped his arms around Greenlee's waist, and nipped gently at her right earlobe. She giggled happily, her fit of pique over the missing pizza and Ryan's entirely unexpected appearance at her front door was quickly vanquished by the attentions bestowed upon her by her lover.

Ryan glared unhappily as he took inventory of the perfectly tanned six pack and full head of dark hair sported by his old nemesis. Ryan's own toupee had shifted more then ever during his madcap escape from the yacht club. It was now canted over one ear making him look as though a small, scruffy rodent was glued to the side of his head. He'd tried hair plugs but they hadn't worked and he'd actually gotten a pretty bad staphylococcus infection from the unsuccessful attempt.

"Aidan, I didn't know you and Greenlee...I mean that's great, I'm happy for the both of you." Ryan stammered out the words as he stood stunned and miserable before the insensible couple.

Greenlee smiled dreamily up at Aidan. "Yes we met at a yoga retreat in the Adirondacks. You know Ryan," she paused to stare critically at his bulging beer belly, "It might not be a bad idea for you to go do something like that. I think it would do you a world of good. Who knows you might even find a non-octogenarian girlfriend." She smiled wickedly at him.

Aidan gazed at Ryan with empathy, "Erica still giving you trouble, mate?"

Greenlee tittered, her compassion fading as it was quickly being superseded by a sense of the pure absurdity of the situation. "Yeah, little tiny Erica chased big strong Ryan out of the Yacht club and he wanted to know if he could stay here tonight."

Ryan, feeling more and more uncomfortable at the idea of staying in the penthouse under such awkward circumstances, began backing up toward the door. "No, man, I didn't mean to intrude on you love birds. It's okay, I'm sure I can find someplace to go-maybe the Pinecone…"

Greenlee laughed maliciously at him. "You should go stay at the assisted living home." She suggested callously, "You know it's kinda of funny, you and Erica trading places. Still, she's the lucky one, she gets the yacht Club and you get all the old fogies."

Ryan narrowed his eyes and his hands twitched unconsciously. His father's genes momentarily reasserted themselves and Ryan thought with a dull, burning spurt of dark excitement about how her small, delicate neck would feel as he twisted it between his large hands.

Aidan swatted Greenlee's bottom in playful remonstrance at her lack of hospitality. "Nonsense, you're more than welcome to stay here, old sport. The couch is comfy and the television is there if you get bored."

Ryan not really wanting to go back out into the cold, snowy night, nodded his head in reluctant agreement to the generous offer. "Thanks, I'll be out of your way first thing tomorrow." He groaned quietly when he ran his hands through his missing hair and suddenly realized that his toupee was fully askew. He tried to furtively straighten it out as his face flared red with a mixture of shame and impotent rage. Aidan tactfully pretended not to notice Ryan's quandary but Greenlee stood next to her lover, her bright, dark bird's eyes absorbing Ryan's discomfort with ill concealed glee.

Aidan said easily, "All right then, it's all settled. Well, sweetheart, it looks like we're not getting that pizza delivery after all, probably it's due to this nasty weather. How about we go straight to dessert instead?" He winked at Ryan and started pulling Greenlee back toward the bedroom. "'Night, mate." He called back absently, his focus now entirely on Greenlee and the siren call of their bed.

Greenlee giggled once more as she went eagerly with Aidan. "'Night, Ryan, sweet dreams. I'm sure they'll all be of Erica." She couldn't help adding one final riposte as they disappeared together into the bedroom.

Ryan sighed disconsolately as he looked around the empty living room. This wasn't how he thought the evening would end with just him and his toupee batching it. He went into the kitchen and opening the refrigerator moaned in dismay. It was entirely stocked with healthy foods all of which possessed zero or negative calorie counts. Even the beer was a nonalcoholic derivative of organically grown hops from Lithuania. Without enthusiasm, he pulled a bottle out and cracked the non-twist top off using the edge of the kitchen counter for leverage. Just then, the cell phone in his pocket vibrated and Ryan stood stock still for a moment to simply savor the sensation. He knew it represented the only action he was going to get tonight.

When he pulled the phone out and looked at the screen he moaned in despair. It was a text message from Erica. "Luvr wting in bed. Come bk soon sxy. XOXOXO"

Ryan returned to the living room and, pulling off his now grimy tennis shirt, flopped face down onto the welcoming couch. He was too tired to even reach up and turn off the lamp. "Guess I'll have to drag her back to court again and get a new cell phone num…" He muttered dejectedly to himself. He was just drifting off to sleep, exhausted from his long day, when he was jerked awake by the sound of a loud cry of passion erupting from the bedroom.

Greenlee screamed out in unbridled ecstasy. "Yes, Aidan, yes, right there, oh, God, yes! Do that again and again…"

The noises continued unceasingly for hours. Ryan could hear them even over the reruns of the Spanish telenovela 'Todos Los Niños' that he was reduced to watching at three o'clock in the morning. He sighed and placed a pillow over his head in a futile attempt to block out the sounds of Greenlee's and Aidan's lovemaking. He didn't know what he could have possibly done to earn such torturous retribution but the night stretched before him in an endless looping, waking nightmare of everything he had once possessed and had let slip through his fingers.

"Still," he mumbled drowsily as he once again began to fall asleep as apparently things in the bedroom had quieted down. "I'm still on the top of my game and tomorrow is another day."

He dreamed of the Carey-Chandler triplets and him all vacationing at a ski resort. Of course Ryan didn't ski but that didn't mean he wasn't up for cavorting in a hot tube with three nubile and willing beauties. Ryan's lips curved upward in a beatific smile as his rumbling snores filled the quiet living room.

_A/N Reviews are always appreciated_


End file.
